The Chip in the Porcelain
by Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs
Summary: A Rumbelle fic, as seen through Rumpel's eyes. "They were cruel to her." Those words rang in his ears, threatening to drown him in the consequences of his choices as he stares at the white porcelain cup. Tag to 'Skin Deep'. One-shot.


A/N: I watched 'Skin Deep' yesterday, and fell absolutely in love with Belle, and Rumbelle. I still have a love/hate relationship with Rumpelstiltskin, though my heart did break for him, losing Belle.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Once Upon A Time.

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><p>The Evil Queen clicked her way out of the house, her heels sharply snapping against the floor as she strode to the door, her heavy black dress swaying with her movements. Rumpelstiltskin stood, frozen in place, staring out the window.<p>

_They were cruel to her._

He'd sent her away thinking she'd been some spy of the Queen, trying to weaken him with love so that she would be the most powerful in the land. And he had fallen for the dark-haired beauty of a girl, he would admit to that. Belle had been beautiful, enchanting, intelligent. Everything he could have fallen for in his human life.

But he was no longer human and he had no right to wanting someone so vibrantly full of life. He'd tried so hard to tell her to go, to push her away so that she would not want to live with him any longer as he'd felt himself falling for her. But she'd held on, reminiscent to a leech as she'd tried to suck stories and wisdom and background from him.

She'd been a wonderful companion to his spinning; the work was tedious and yet soothing, but the quietness of it soon became too much for him. Hearing her musical voice, watching her bright eyes as she smiled at him for some riddle he'd thrown at her had been a pleasant surprise to him.

And now, she was gone.

_They were cruel to her._

He could still remember the way her lips felt on his; they were soft and lush, tender against his rougher skin. He could remember how it had felt to begin to lose his diamond mask; the way it had felt to feel human again for those few seconds. He could feel the panic rise once again as he'd realized what was happening; he could firmly remember pushing her away, anger welling up inside.

The trip to the dungeon felt like ages; Belle was pulling against his, shouting at him to stop, but he wouldn't listen. She'd made him so vulnerable; how could any person possess that kind of power over him? He was the most powerful being in all the land- how could this young girl affect him so?

The look in Belle's eyes as she'd turned to look at him, their dark irises begging with him to rethink what he was doing, haunted him. She'd been so young, so beautiful, and all that had gone to waste.

_And they'd been cruel to her._

He felt anger flash over his skin as he thought of the treatment Belle had faced upon her return home. She hadn't deserved it, not in the slightest. He thought of Gaston, her beast of an ex-fiancé, and felt no remorse for having killed him.

He merely wished he had the opportunity to kill Maurice, as well.

Curling his fist, he tried to quell the anger that washed through him, boiling his blood. He took a deep breath, staring out the window at the gorgeous land surrounding him.

It all seemed a little bit dimmer without Belle in it.

_They would never be cruel to her again._

He walked to the tall glass cabinets, opening the doors slowly, eyes pinpointing on the object he intended to take out. Grasping it with careful fingers, he brought it out of the cabinet, closing his eyes momentarily.

The white porcelain cup was light in his hands, his thumb delicately running over the chip on the edge of it. His heart thumped painfully in his chest, a reminder that he was alive and she was not.

Closing the cabinet doors once again he walked over to the pedestal in the front room, taking the large, gaudy gold vase off of it and placing the chipped porcelain cup in the center of the wood. He looked at it for a few minutes, swallowing heavily as he thought of Belle, kneeling on the ground, holding that very same cup in her hands, a troubled looked on her face.

She'd been so beautiful, so kind- a gem in this desolate house, this forsaken home. Now, he would forever pay the consequence of sending her away.

All he had left was an empty heart and a chipped cup.


End file.
